


on a wednesday in a cafe

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Series: And We Meet Again. [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, but what can he do when his friends are just such idiots, friends to strangers to lovers, meet again after high school, ned only has like 2 lines of dialogue, what a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: "Michelle sighs and Peter looks genuinely distressed by it. She almost feels bad, but this is...not going well."AKA: What happened the morning after Michelle and Peter reunite under...interesting circumstances.Sequel to my Spideychelle Week Day 4 Fic: Cake. Walk.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: And We Meet Again. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935379
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	on a wednesday in a cafe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ForASecondThereWedWon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Second! I'm a day late but, here you go!
> 
> I have been working so so so so so much recently so this is the first thing I've gotten to write in a month. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

When Ned emerges from his room the next morning, he hears the faint sound of a text being sent as he enters the kitchen. 

Peter is hunched over a bowl of Cheerios at their rickety kitchen table, eating like he’s not seen a meal in days as usual. 

(Seriously how does any food make it into his mouth?)

He remains purposely focused on the back of the cereal box even as Ned grabs a water bottle and joins him at the table. 

“Dude, wtf.” 

“Do you think it’s early?” Peter asks, ignoring Ned’s exasperation. “Like too early to like...idk be up?” 

Peter picks up his phone, considering something as he types out another message.

Ned stares blankly as Peter keeps spiraling. “Cause like...I’m up,” he lifts a finger towards Ned, not glancing up from the screen as he hits send. “You’re up. So reasonably other people could be up, right? And-” 

“Peter!”

He stops then and it isn’t lost on Ned how Peter’s gaze darts down to his phone lying face up on the table every few seconds.

A few minutes go by until he notices that he’s gotten a new text. Ned is able to catch the two letters on the screen before Peter snatches up the phone, pushing back from the table so aggressively that his bowl rattles a couple inches towards the edge. 

Milk sloshes across the table and his spoon actually does go flying towards the tile.

“ _Dude!”_

* * *

When Mariah does her signature “stride of pride” into their apartment the next morning, she’s greeted by MJ on the couch. 

She’s curled up in Mariah’s best blanket (it’s the softest. They’ve done tests), a mug of tea in one hand and her cellphone gripped in the other. Mariah has to blink twice to be sure she’s really seeing this and she chuckles to herself as she hangs up her bag and jacket. 

“Oh, this has gotta be good,” she teases, pulling at the opposite edge of the blanket until MJ lets her climb underneath. 

MJ raises her right knee and props it against the back of their sofa as Mariah settles in across from her, watching her shift until she finds a position she likes. 

Said position ends up being one leg tucked into the crease of the couch cushions and the other knee raised and leaning against Michelle’s with her foot tucked snugly under Michelle’s butt.

Michelle lets her steal the tea with an affectionate eye roll and watches as Mariah takes a long sip, eyeing her expectantly over the rim of the mug. 

“What a welcome home,” she smirks, eyes flashing as she sees a new text pop up on Michelle’s home screen. “So, what the fuck? Who’s Peter?”

After Peter had left, they’d spend most of the rest of the night texting until she’d fallen asleep naturally and the conversation had come to an abrupt end. She’d left the bar shortly after he did, swearing to her roommate that she was just tired and she hasn’t had a chance to fill her in since then. 

She doesn’t even think she wants to. 

Reading her just as well as always, Mariah presses on, wiggling her toes to get her attention. “I know you were texting that guy from the bar all night, MJ. It’s early as fuck and you’re just sat here with your phone _and_ you haven’t taken off your eye makeup.”

She looks so triumphant as she takes another sip, “Spill. It.”

It’s a beat before Michelle answers, weighing her options as she decides how much she actually wants to tell her, but ultimately knowing it’s pointless to try and keep this from Mariah. 

She sighs, dragging her fingers through her hair to buy time. It’s an anxious habit that Mariah recognizes and she quirks an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic display of nerves. 

“You remember that guy from high school I told you about?...” 

It’s a vague enough description that she actually might not remember, and it takes a moment but when her eyes widen and Mariah breaks out into a too satisfied grin, Michelle knows she understands. 

“He’s _Peter???_ Like flakiest flake, abs of steel, stupid fucking smile Peter _Parker_???”

“I don’t recall that being the description I gave you,” she squints. 

Mariah scoffs, “Oh I’m like ‘67% sure’ that those were your exact words that time we played ‘Truth or Dare’ after that shitty frat party.” 

“Remind me again why I keep drinking tequila?” MJ groans, throwing a hand across her eyes and flopping back onto the pile of pillows she’d stacked when she’d gotten home. “Nothing good ever happens to me when I drink tequila.”

“Hey, _I_ happened to you because you drink too much tequila.” Mariah pokes her knee before commenting cheekily, “And thank god it finally did. I could only go so long believing that you ‘just can’t reach the zipper,’ MJ.”

“That was an excellent excuse to let you see my very expensive lace underwear that I remember you very much appreciating.” 

There’s a laugh threatening to break through her words that MJ can’t contain when Mariah informs her that her arms are “twice the length of mine, Michelle. Seriously?” 

And then Mariah’s laughing too, taking care not to spill the tea on their couch. They’d gotten it used, so it definitely already had that kind of character, but it’d lasted them through 5 years and a move so they try to be as responsible with it as they can. 

The “pho incident” of 2029 is not to be talked about. Ever. 

At least it’s a dark color.

They catch their breath and Mariah locks eyes with her, turning serious as she rubs circles into MJ’s knee with her pointer finger. “What’d he say?”

Pressing her lips together, Michelle unlocks her phone to read the text and it’s nothing groundbreaking. MJ would never have labeled herself as the type to want “good morning” texts, but as she stares at the message, her smile is uncontrollable. 

Another message comes through as she’s staring at her phone (asking her out for coffee), and she shows it to Mariah. She twists her lips as she waits for Mariah to read it, swatting at her hand when she tries to scroll back through their messages from the night before. 

“I think you should go for it. I’ve never seen you like this.” 

MJ chews on her bottom lip as she types out a quick response, but doesn’t hit send.

“Yeah?” It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and her roommate studies her before she sits back, apparently settling on something. 

“Definitely.” 

When she hits send, Michelle feels terrified but she isn’t allowed to dwell on it because Mariah’s smirking, “Besides. I’ve seen his muscles in person now. I bet he’d be an insane fu- _ow!_ ”

“I hate you.”

* * *

Michelle spots Peter outside the coffee shop he’d told her about and she takes a moment to collect herself as she waits at the intersection. 

_He’s just a man, Michelle. Get a grip._

The light changes and her time to just...turn the fuck around and go home is gone when Peter spots her in the crosswalk. He smiles at her and all the bravado from the previous night is gone. 

It’s just Peter. Grown up, but still just how she remembers him. 

“Hey,” she whispers when she’s finally stood in front of him and she watches him raise his arms as if to hug her but he seems to think better of it. 

“Uh hey, MJ.” He’s breathless as he runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly, jostling one of his curls onto his forehead. MJ thinks that’s just rude. 

It’s quiet after that and it’s so painfully awkward that Michelle starts to wonder why she’d come. 

“Do you-”

“We should-”

They laugh then, meeting each other’s eyes and feeling some of that tension dissipate as they head inside the shop. It’s empty aside from the two of them and the barista who greets them from behind the counter.

“Do you wanna grab a table before we order?” He suggests and she nods towards a little booth tucked in the back corner, ignoring the strained look the barista gives them as they walk over to it.

MJ slides into the seat taking off her jacket and tilting her head when she notices Peter still standing. 

(Michelle doesn’t notice how Peter’s eyes linger on her now exposed collarbone. How his gaze trails downward between the slightly open planes of her button down.)

She frowns a little, stilling with one arm still half in the sleeve of her jacket, “Do you not wanna sit here because we could move to that one over-”

“No no!” he insists, sliding in across from her easily before she can finish her question. “Here’s good. Great even!”

She eyes him in that same suspicious way she used to, and Peter watches her fondly, seeming to relax under the scrutiny of it.

Peter asks Michelle what she likes to drink these days and she tells him (London Fog with Oat Milk and a little vanilla) without thinking about why he’s asked.

_Yeah she feels dumb for that one too._

He grins at her like he hadn’t expected her to answer honestly and bounces towards the counter with a belated, “Don’t let anyone take my seat.” 

While he’s gone, she takes a moment to really look around the shop. The table she’d chosen was random, but she notices now that she can’t even see the barista from where she’s sitting. 

_No wonder she’d given me a weird look when we walked over here._

She’s not alone for long though and she startles when Peter sets the steaming mug down in front of her. “I got them ‘for here.’ I hope that’s okay?” 

“Mugs are superior. Always.”

Peter chuckles and tells her he actually remembered her always having a mug at lunch so he figured. She gives him a closed lipped smile in response, feeling her nerves building.

Then the silence settles in again. 

And _boy_ is it silent. She notices then that there’s no music playing in this shop either and she misses the background noise it would’ve provided them. 

Anything but this...

Michelle sighs and Peter looks genuinely distressed by it. She almost feels bad, but this is...not going well. 

She goes to say as much and her body language must give something away because Peter perks up suddenly and she stops short. 

“I-uh, I’m really glad you decided to come out this morning. I was worried I was being too forward.”

She feels his legs bump hers under the table and Peter jerks, immediately pulling it back and blushing furiously at her raised eyebrow. 

_You literally had your hands on my ass 12 hours ago, Parker,_ she thinks to herself, finding his reaction a little extra if she’s being honest. 

“ _What?!_ I mean- I”

Oh. Did she say that out loud? Her own flush creeps up her neck and she feels it warming her cheeks instantly. 

Peter sputters over his Caramel Macchiato, grabbing a wad of napkins and holding them to his mouth as he tries to breathe without dribbling coffee down the front of his shirt. 

MJ takes mercy and doesn’t comment when he finally manages to swallow and catch his breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

She picks at her nails anxiously and when Peter notices the movement he reaches out to take her hand. Michelle blinks owlishly at him as he tangles their fingers after he realizes she doesn’t plan to pull away. 

She watches him curiously as he takes a deep breath, and holds her gaze steadily. 

“I’ve always liked you, you know?” 

_Skipping the small talk?_ Michelle can work with that.

“Me too, actually.” She smirks when he looks surprised by that, “Oh, come on it was so obvious.”

Michelle is ready to laugh this off. To use this as a stepping stone to more easy conversation, but the look on Peter’s face is anything but amused. 

He looks dejected by her words and it doesn’t come together for her until-

“It wasn’t.”

It’s a whisper, but the quiet of the shop means it reaches her ears just as loudly as anything else they’ve said. And MJ feels the loss in the space between them even if she doesn’t put words to it. It feels like he understands when he gives her hand a brief squeeze.

“Do you wanna try this? Like really try? We don’t need to make small talk, MJ. I know you. You know me,” he tells her and he sounds sure enough for the both of them. “Of course, we’ll need to catch up on the last few years, but I don’t wanna waste time pretending I don’t know what I want this to be.”

Michelle clears her throat, still fully (fully) aware that Peter has a hold of her hand and Peter slides down in his seat, truly relaxed it seems for the first time since they’d arrived. 

He turns his attention towards the counter, and he too seems to realize how tucked out of the way they are. 

When he looks back at her he’s got that look on his face that she blearily remembers from the night before. He lets go of her hand, but she doesn’t have enough time to be disappointed because he wraps his fingers around her wrist and tugs. 

“Peter, wha-”

“Shh!” he hushes before he releases her arm in a panic and backpedals under the pressure of her steely gaze. “I mean not ‘shh’ because you can speak your mind anytime I would just really love for the barista to not see you moving to sit next to me right now.”

MJ folds her arms skeptically, but softens her eyes to ask, “And why would I be moving to sit next to you?” 

Peter smiles at her then, and it’s that same smile she remembers from way back when with just a flicker of _something else_. 

“Like I said,” Peter begins too casually and her heart skips at the intensity in his eyes. “I’d like to see where this goes, Michelle, but mostly I’d really like to kiss you again,” he tells her like it’s the most obvious thing. 

Michelle doesn’t miss the way his eyes fall and linger down at her lips. 

She takes a moment to let his words wash over her and another to feel sorry for the barista before she rises from her seat. And she excuses the eagerness with which she joins him across the table because...well he’s made a compelling case for himself. 

* * *

When he gets home, Ned is practically waiting for him in the hallway. 

Peter’s barely stepped inside their tiny apartment before Ned is up from the couch, abandoning the game he’d been playing in favor of grilling his roommate. 

“Peter you left milk all over the kitchen table and I had to clean it up. Alone. So not cool.” 

Peter has the good sense to dampen his smile at that to give Ned a sincere apology and he promises to take kitchen duty for an extra week to make for it. 

Ned had resolved to keep up his annoyance for a little while longer, but when he sees the pinkish-purplish bruise sneaking up from beneath Peter’s collar he can’t help himself. 

_“Dude! WTF!?”_

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that. Thanks for reading! Come find me on tumblr @michellesbohh
> 
> Comments and Kudos save lives.


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